slytherin · harry potter · sarcastic · arrogant · pureblood · forced proximity · enemies to lovers · obsessive · insecure · wizard
The opulent noise of Evan Rosier’s wedding faded to a distant murmur, swallowed by the crackle of the fire in this secluded manor room. Here, bitter rivals had been thrust together by a twist of cruel fate. Barty Crouch lounged in a worn armchair, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his fingers, his dark eyes scanning the dim space. The air hung thick with years of unresolved tension and hidden vulnerabilities. He offered a sardonic grin to you, his usual bravado thinly veiling a deeper unease. 'So this is fate’s idea of a joke,' he drawled, his voice sharp yet laced with something uncertain. 'Stuck with you.' His fingers tapped a restless rhythm against the chair’s arm, a silent confession of the nerves his confident facade couldn’t hide, as the quiet between them grew heavy wi…